Something in the Eyes
by shadowsfromthedream
Summary: She looked up at the shadows that hid her potential killer's face. Her golden eyes burned holes in him. They were riveting, and accusing him for what he had done and was about to do. An AU fic.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, Fanfictioners!

This is what I would consider to be my first fanfiction. (My other one is a ridiculously short oneshot with two reviews. Heh)

I just wanted to thank candy4yourEYEZ for encouraging me to put this up. Thanks youz! Oh, and if you like Hetalia, go check them out! Amazing fanfics!

So, before you start reading my crazy scribbles, two questions. What made you click on this? I'm really curious. And just to get to know each other, what is your favorite sandwich? Mine is ham and cheese. Put lettuce and tomato and some honey mustard on there, and it is MARVELOUS!

And this story is probably not historically accurate. I will look up some things, but I'd rather spend my time writing, not finding what is most likely inaccurate information.

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><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat or any of its characters!<p>

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

Rain.

It poured from the sky, like the heavens were attempting to reach the world with its tears lamenting what it had become.

It hit the dusty yellow bricks of Verona, pattering and splattering against the well-worn streets, dripping down the intricate and fine carvings etched into the architecture.

The drops fell down Juliet's face, making her appear as if she was crying because of her and her lover's cruel fate.

The rain also fell upon a cloaked figure, blending in with the crowd perfectly.

Yet he emitted a dangerous aura. Even though they were not aware of it, they gave him a wide berth. Something in their subconscious was uneasy, and they looked around nervously, trying to find the source, but never thinking it was the mysterious man directly behind them, face obscured in the shadows of his hood.

He walked rather quickly, like he was purpose-driven, yet still managed to stay out of notice. His eyes took in everything he saw, storing it away, possibly to be used later.

His footfalls were silent, despite the heavy boots he wore with greaves, a sign that sneaking around was practiced regularly.

The rain fell on another, also hidden beneath the folds of her cloak. She wore peasant's clothes, yet her obviously pure bred, jet black steed was suspicious. The coat was too shiny, the mare too good looking to be a poor man's horse. Such were reserved only for rich and powerful. The horse carried many saddle bags, like one was going on a long journey.

She was trying to be inconspicuous, but failed miserably.

She also had a direction, though, that she was headed, and she pursued it perhaps a bit too quickly. From within the cloak, her eyes darted to and fro nervously, as if searching desperately for something but praying not to find it.

All eyes looked upon this, and guessed she was a runaway servant. Though none tried to stop her, because everyone hated the nobles and reveled in seeing them put down. They were all corrupt in general. In particular, the highest of them all in this beautiful town, the family of Moratti. The lady executed many who had done no wrong. Whatever demands the family made, it was obeyed, because that was the measure of power they held.

She was headed out of the center to the outside, he from the outskirts to the center. It was definite their paths were to cross.

And when they did, his ever-observant eyes distinguished the rather noticeable figure from the rest of the crowd, and her apprehensively watchful yet oblivious ones glanced over him without a second thought.

He had undoubtedly brought her into his attentions, though.

He switched the direction he was going, still managing to blend in despite worming his way throughout the fast-paced traffic of the multitude of people surrounding him.

Several people behind her, he trailed her, carefully, with the practice of many times.

Though she was unaware of her changed circumstances, her uneasiness grew. She then went faster, running into several others. She needed to get out.

He fingered the cold smoothness hidden beneath his cloak in anticipation, the only sign of feeling in his otherwise frighteningly composed behavior. The adrenaline began to run through him. He knew this feeling. He knew it well. It seemed to possess him.

Her anxiety grew. Her awareness decreased with each second. She is soon only knew the panic that mixed with the burning sensation that was in her chest. It hurt to breathe.

They had exited the city, and were in the area with farms and such dotting the empty fields. She walked a bit more, and then mounted her horse. Her unknown shadow had already gotten himself a steed, a chestnut brown stallion with a tinge of red. It was very large, built for galloping quickly for a long distance, yet was nondescript.

She was going fast, very fast, and it invoked curiosity in her trailer. Why was she going so quickly?

She was going to tire her horse soon, no matter how well bred the thing was.

She was finally out of that tightly-compacted city, yet she felt no relief. She glanced over her shoulder, looking for pursuers, and saw none. Her panic-clouded vision could not identify the ominous man behind her, blatantly following her.

He observed all this, and fit another piece into the puzzle this girl was providing.

After awhile longer riding, her horse tired, just as he had predicted. It slowed down to a trot, and through the jolt of the ride, she scolded the mare, and urged it onwards. It would not go, too exhausted, and was clearly not used to going long distances on a quick pace.

She cursed loudly, and leads it to a small crick flowing through the vast, empty fields. She decides to let the mare rest for twenty minutes, and then would go on. She had to get out of there, and fast.

She began to pace with the anxiety building up inside of her.

He stopped his horse, and tied the reins to a small tree. He quietly walked to where she was. Unaware that someone is almost directly behind her, she continued to mutter under her breath.

"Have to get out, before they realize I am gone..."

He drew a long, curved dagger with an ornamented hilt from beneath his cloak.

He prepared to stab her, the knife just inches from her chest.

She stopped pacing, to take out her anxiety on nearby shrub.

Her horse, however saw the man, and was spooked. The ruckus startled him, and the blade went into her side below the rib cage, not hitting anything vital.

Her hood came off when he caught her, and her eyes widened when she saw the blood coming from her middle.

He took the blade from her side.

She did not try to get away.

The dagger was at her throat...

She looked up at the shadows that hid her potential killer's face. Her golden eyes burned holes in him. They were riveting, and accusing him for what he had done and was about to do.

He was riveted, unable to move. Those eyes trapped him.

He saw a chord hanging from her neck. Her eyes still on him, he picked it up with the tip of his dagger, which was now covered with her blood.

His eyes widened. He looked back at the golden fire, and they only confirmed what he had seen.

His hands shook. He could not, could not kill this person.

Some time passed, and he wavered in his resolve.

He looked back into those eyes, and he seemed to have lost control of himself. The dagger dropped to the ground. He let go of her, and ran, those eyes embedded in his mind.

She was suddenly aware of the blood loss, and her shock, both of which had hidden. A's her vision blacked out, she saw the retreating figure, and wondered.

"Why did he stop from killing me?"

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><p>Yes, I know, crazy idea. I got this-you'll never guess- playing Assassin's Creed! That game is so much fun, and this will have next to nothing to do with it except for a few things.<p>

But did you like this so far?


	2. Chapter 2

OK, a big thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/alerted this. I had a HUGE smile from ear to ear all day! So I decided to update!

If you looked at the summary, you will see that this is an alternative reality fic. It will have to do with Skip Beat, though. I will try my best to get characters into here. Undoubtedly, the main ones will be in this.

And as for this confusing you, it will make sense later. But be warned, not everything is going to make sense until a ways down the road.

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><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat or any of its characters.<p>

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><p>Waking up from the blackness that had consumed her mind, the young woman's golden eyes slowly opened. The world seemed to spin, and was fuzzy as she became aware of the dull throbbing in her head.<p>

She glanced around, surprised at her suddenly sunny surroundings, as if not believing that she really was there.

A scent came into her senses. It smelled like iron. She looked at her side, and a sharp intake of breath acknowledged the seriousness at her findings.

Her side was bleeding, and badly. Judging from the pool of warm crimson on the rough grass, it was a wonder she had woken up from her unconscious state.

She had to stop the bleeding.

Groaning, she dragged herself painfully across the grass, a grimace on her face as already stated grass brushed against her open wound. A blood trail traced her progress.

She crawled towards a pile of dry grass, gathering it to her chest. She looked for sticks.

After some time, she had a pile of dry burnables ready to go.

She rubbed two sticks together quickly; and became frustrated as no sparks came out.

Finally, after several minutes of getting splinters in her skin, he had a small fire going. In between feeding it more fuel, she examined her wound.

It went all the way through her. He really had stabbed her deeply. It was not very wide, but it was long. She noticed it had dirt inside of it, from crawling across the grass. She tore a strip of cloth from the hem of her dress, and then dragged herself down to the crick. She soaked the rag, then applied it to the wound. A grimace once again was on her almost doll-like face, and her carefully sculpted eyebrows furrowed in pain.

"This is nothing, compared to later, Kyoko!" She told herself.

She held the rag to the wound, so that no more dirt could come into it as she made her way back to the fire.

It had seemed to be warm enough. The jet-black haired young woman took the dagger that man had dropped that she had picked up, and stuck it in the already hot embers. Kyoko put more wood on fire and ripped off more of her dress for bandages as she waited for it to heat up.

It soon glowed with a strange redness, orange flickering within it. Heat raced into her fingers, but she resisted the urge to drop the now-blackened hilt as she picked up the dagger.

She hesitated a moment, knowing how much it would hurt, but then stuck it in her wound.

She screamed in pain for a split second, but then remembered she was trying to stay under detection. She bit back on her molars so hard one of them chipped, and on her cheek, so that an awful taste filled her mouth.

She took the blade out slowly, groaning softly. Her hands trembled as she wrapped the wound that seemed to burn with heightened pain.

An overly positive thought hit her, the old personality once again coming forth. "Well, at least I managed to stop the bleeding."

She rested awhile, then shakingly rose to her feet using a nearby shrub. She dosed the fire.

She started to walk, stumbling over everything, but making progress. It may have been a contest with a nearby snail, but progress nonetheless.

She continued to bite her cheeks, so that blood meandered down her lips to her chin like a river. The jolt of the constant stumbling increased the throbs in her head and side.

In her golden eyes, something burned. It had been kindled for a while. It had been suppressed, yes, but it had slowly built up, and had been the turning point.

She was not going to give up. She could not. After all, HE had to repay for his sins. No matter what.

She had to find them. They were the only ones to be able to help her.

They would welcome another into their ranks, wouldn't they?

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><p>Leave a review, please! It helps me to write this, and the reviews will get you a quicker update and a better fic!<br>And a huge arigatou to everyone who did! =D

As for the stopping blood by scorching yourself, I had a big gash on my leg once, and had to do that. It is INSANE how much it hurts!

And you're probably tired of hearing about it by now, but thank you for reading/reviewing/alerting!


	3. Chapter 3

I would have posted this yesterday, but there was that issue and I couldn't log in! I tried so many times to get on to my profile, but it never worked! ARRRGH!

Anyways, enjoy!

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><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat or any of its characters.<p>

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><p>Luck seemed to have been bipolar that week.<p>

Kyoko's mare had returned to her, and she was infinitely grateful to have the steed after a few days of stumbling around on a deceivingly flat plain. Her progress was gratingly slow, and being hampered by falling over with far too much trouble getting up was not helping much.

She had never considered ground such an enemy before then.

The mare had come trotting towards her, saddle and bags intact. Not one thing was missing. Her eyes had lit up, and she thanked the fates many times over for it.

The two set off on a steady pace, resting during the night and traveling during the day. Kyoko's wound was healing up nicely, though the not-quite-smooth canter had caused her to bleed some in the first few days. However, now, a dull ache and a developing red scar was all that reminded her of the incident.

Travel was long, and rather exhausting. Kyoko began to understand to toil of the saddle. Her legs ached, and she often got cramps, those being in the strangest places.

A similar predicament was brought about in the form of a muscle in her elbow. It had tightened, and proved impossible to stretch, after several minutes of some awkward positions.

Kyoko sighed as she got back into the saddle, wincing as the motion caused muscles to flare up in protest.

Aloud, she commanded the horse in a clear tone, "Canter!" She mused that it was awhile since she had spoken to anybody. The empty fields had not brought many into her path, and when they did, she hid from them.

It would not last, she thought, eyeing the nearing destination on the horizon. She would be there in a half day, provided her estimates were correct.

A few hours later found her on the outskirts of Milan. The bustle of the city mingled with the clop of her horse's hooves as she rode along the cobbled streets. She had her hood up, so no one would recognize her in case they had put up signs depicting her.

She searched the marketplaces, trying to find the place.

Once, when she had been looking for a way out of that house, she had overheard two of the servants, quietly discussing. It was apparent they were hiding something, so she crept into a clump of bushes a foot from where they were.

One, a maid, handed the other, a guard, a small amulet. Kyoko strained her eyes to see an eagle with its wings stretched out inscribed into the stone, a symbol.

"Go to the building with eagles and lions in Milan, and show them this. They will know that I sent you, and you will be trained in the ways."

She had never seen that guard again, but the maid had done the same with two others.

She stood in front of a door, a small banner above it with an eagle flying away from lions, their mouths wide open.

A pigeon, roosting in a lion's mouth, watched her hesitate to open the door. Her hand shook, in midair, stopped from following through with the motion. She whispered quietly under her breath, and then a fire was rekindled.

She opened the door, to find what looked to be lit by several candles, the gray stone walls decorated by a tapestry similar to the banner outside. Pillars reached up to the ceiling, hung with red cloth for decoration. Parchment maps were on the walls, filled with lines, circles and notes, displayed plans. Books were everywhere, open to pages, their information apparent to all. A fire burned, letting out a small amount of heat. An archway connected rooms together, and one could see that there was many rooms.

Kyoko glanced around, and walked in quietly. She was nervous, because of the obvious signs someone had been there, not a whisper indicated a person.

She took off her hood, having no need for it anymore, and looked at a map. Immediately, the observation came to her that Verona was circled. The note hastily written beside it said that "R taking care of M."

A crunch came from behind her. She whirled around, to see a raven-haired woman with a dagger in hand, equally startled.

And looked just as ready to use the weapon as the mysterious man had.

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><p>First of all, I apologize for the typos I make! For some reason when I write this, I always try to make it in the present tense. So I type 100 words and then realize I have to go back and rewrite basically everything. I do edit, but often I look over it so many times I can't see the errors anymore.<p>

So, I am going to ask something of you. When I wrote this chapter, I realized I know next to NOTHING about Italy. I know I said that I wasn't going to make this story historically accurate, but in order to get it up to par in my standards, I need info. The stuff online is just not helping enough, and my history class isn't much, either. Leave a review if you know ANYTHING about Italy, please! Like the climate, geography, customs, festivals, (that's going to play an important part later on) foods, culture, architecture, anything! It would help so much!

Thank you for reading/reviewing/alerting, everyone!


	4. Chapter 4

I want to apologize for the late update. Life happened, you know? I got really sick, and then my teachers decided to assign a TON of work...

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><p>They held those poses for awhile, in a silent staring contest, like concrete had been plastered over them.<p>

Kyoko was holding a book in one hand, and it began to slip through her fingers. It dropped to the floor, so loud in the silence it made them snap out of the statue state.

The concrete disappeared, and time started to tick again. However, when the woman spoke, Kyoko still flinched at the sound of a human voice, having not heard one for a while.

"Who are you?" The woman inquired suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

"Mogami Kyoko." She replied, not breaking from the iron gaze.

"Kyoko, how did you find this place?"

She dug out the amulet she had made, similar to the ones she had seen the maid hand over. She did not answer the question, thinking the token was sufficient. "I came to join you."

Her interrogator's eyes widened slightly in recognition. She asked, "Why do you want to join us?"

"For revenge." The fire, burning still, dissolved any doubt in the woman's mind. In that gaze were interminable amounts of emotion, so many negative. Strength was in those eyes, also.

"Come with me." Even though she is a Mogami... The woman thought as she began to walk away.

Those same eyes turned sparkly and delusional, and the woman was crushed in a huge hug from behind. A rush of air from her lungs and words greeted her ears.

"Thankyouthankyou! We bonded back there with our eyes! Don't you think so? You know what, we should be friends, best friends! So, what is your name, best friend?" The torrent of words finally ended when Kyoko was hit right under the rib cage with an elbow.

"Mo, who does that to people they just have met? Watch it!" She glared at Kyoko, who just looked innocently back.

"But what's your name?" The eyes took on a pleading, saddened look like a puppy hoping for a treat.

"No." There was no way she was letting that girl learn her name.

"Please? For your best friend? Don't you want to be best friends? Friends know each other's names, you know!"

"No." She once again walked away, forcing Kyoko to follow her, who currently had the face of one who has lost all hope.

They walked through the many rooms, before arriving at an eagle carved into the stone. Kyoko watched as the raven-haired woman pushed it into patterns, and then heard a click. She felt a rush of dusty, stale air billow into her face, making her cough.

The woman pushed directly into the stone, and once again Kyoko's lungs were assaulted by unclean air. Part of the wall moved in and aside, revealing a cold, dark passage that yawned cold air into their faces. Both grabbed lanterns and they started to walk down the steep, winding way.

A rat scurried over Kyoko's feet, and she willed herself not to jump. The stale air seemed to press in with the darkness from all sides, and water could be heard, dripping from some unseen crevice. No words passed between the two, the oppressive silence only filled with the slow scuffing of their feet. Kyoko mused about how they must be under the weight of Milan, and tried not to think about how heavy that was.

At last, the passage began to slope upwards. They soon arrived at another stone wall, which also had an eagle on it. The woman followed the same procedure, only this time the wall moved inwards.

Light flooded their eyes, and Kyoko shielded hers. When the initial blindness had passed, she saw a courtyard, fenced in by stone walls. An eagle sat atop a fountain, like a guardian of the mansion that loomed behind it with tall spires trying to reach to the heavens. Voices could be heard distantly, no more than whispers, showing that they were still inside Milan.

They headed towards the large arched double-door of the mansion, and opened it. The interior revealed a vast room, illuminated by light flooding in from windows and wooden chandeliers with candles burning within them. Looking at the height of the ceiling, Kyoko wondered how they were kept lit. Bookcases were everywhere, and tables held books in a haphazard manner. A large fire crackled in a crevice in a northern wall, adorned overhead by an eagle.

As soon as they walked in, a man stood up from his studies of what looked like a map, almost incomprehensible from the writings all over it. He was dressed in black, the clothes of a noble, and examined the two newly arrived with excruciating care, spending much time on Kyoko.

When he had finally turned his attention to the woman but not his eyes, there was no formality in his words, simply a gratingly direct approach.

"Kanae, tell me, who is this stranger you have brought?" He demanded, piercing gaze on Kyoko, who had begun to nervously pick at a hangnail in her nail beds.

Kanae held the gaze and without a falter in her voice, answered.

"This is Mogami Kyoko. She wants to join us."

He finally shifted his scrutiny to Kanae, and Kyoko sighed inwardly in relief.

"And why would you bring a Mogami into our organization?" Though his words were intense, his tone was not raised, leaving a question about how he felt.

"She wants revenge." Kanae stated flatly.

"Really. Explain, Mogami." The man spat out the word like poison.

The hangnail was tearing quite a bit, and Kyoko felt a warm damp gather into her cuticles.

"I want revenge on someone who hurt me." Just thinking about what he had done despite the circumstances had awakened the angry fire in her eyes.

He looked into those golden fires, but did not stop the interrogation. "And this has to do with us because...?"

"Because I will stop at nothing to take revenge on him."

He turned around, and walked to his desk, saying, "Take her through the training."

Kyoko bowed deeply, thanking him. All she got was a "Mogami, I never said you joined yet." She thanked him again for giving her a chance, and got no reply. Kanae grabbed her by the arm after they waited for a minute, and dragged her out the large room up a set of embellished stone stairs.

"Who was that?" Kyoko inquired.

"That was the Boss, Vorretti." Nary a emotion was in her voice.

However much she kept out of her tone, though, her hand on Kyoko's arm was shaking.

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><p>A special thank you to oneleggedstraycat and Interfirce (I don't know how to spell your username, sorry) for giving me information on the Italian Renaissance. It was quite a lot, but every bit helped! =D<p>

Thank you for reading/reviewing/alerting! You guys make my day!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, people of the world of FanFiction! A short chapter, because I don't feel like writing any more and the next part is going to be rather long...

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><p>A bead of perspiration fell into her eyes, causing it to sting and for both eyes to blink rapidly. Her already slick hands slipped off of the stone window ledge she had been just about to grab ahold of, but missed because of the brief lapse of concentration, and she fell the distance she had just painstakingly climbed. Kyoko hit the ground with a loud thud, her knees absorbing all the shock from landing. She did not fall over, though, and sat down upon the cool stone of the street, examining her bleeding, blistered hands in the red light from the sunset. Soft living had done nothing to help the shape of her hands. Or her general physical shape, she thought as she became increasingly aware of the burns and aches in her entire body, specifically her arms.<p>

She was so engrossed in her body, or perhaps just too exhausted, she did not notice the canteen of water being held out to her.

"Are you going to drink?" Kanae's irritated voice reached down into her veil of obliviousness and snapped her back to the current time.

Kyoko, suddenly realizing her dry throat, grabbed the water jug and drank until she needed to breathe. The liquid, though warm, slid down her throat, tasting as good as honey. When she had finished half of the large container, she looked up at Kanae, a sparkly aura around her and flowers blooming out of thin air.

"MOKO-SAN!" She tried to glomp her friend, and succeeded. Kotonami, startled that she could actually have the energy after all the climbing she had done, recovered quickly and threw her with her hip.

Kyoko, on the ground in pain with a new bruise on top of a new one from falling, managed to gasp out, "...You...were...so...thoughtful...just like...a best friend would...be..." She looked up at her with tormented eyes.

"Mo, what kind of nickname is that? Just because you figured it out, doesn't mean you can use it! Now, here, put on these leather gloves and get back to climbing!" She dropped said gloves in Kyoko's face, highly irritated that she not only knew her name, but also her nickname.

This was the fourteenth day of Kyoko's training, and it had never ceased to be extremely difficult for her. Sword training, which was the easiest, still had some tricks for Kyoko to learn. There was using poisons, shooting a bow, tricks on horses, (which included several episodes neither Kyoko nor Kanae wanted to repeat) and basically anything that included stealth, killing techniques, good reflexes... You name physical activity, Kyoko was doing it.

Climbing, though, was a different story altogether. It would have been the easiest, but when your face is on posters everywhere with an eye-widening amount of liras underneath, you generally do not want to take the traditional streets. In light of this, the Eagles almost always travelled by rooftop. And thus, Kyoko was forced to practice the same, seeing as she, too, was sought after. And so she was forced to climb to get everywhere.

Despite everything, training was not that bad. Kyoko's progress was something close to phenomenal, seeing as she was cutting the time in more than half. She caught on quickly, learned from her mistakes, and gave everything her very best.

Kanae was impressed.

Not that she would admit it, but with each passing day the irritability of Kyoko's actions towards her became more endearing with her respect growing towards the odd young woman. She began not to mind as much with her rants on being best friends.

Not that she would ever admit it, though.

And with Kyoko's astounding progress through what took Kotonami two months to get over with, the time was coming.

The first. The very first.

Voretti had been watching the training, she had known, from behind a darkened window, or far away. He was always like that. Hidden in the shadows, no one knew exactly how much he knew.

He left a note in her quiver, where she was bound to find it. The contents had been short, but it was enough to surprise Kanae. To think he had made it so soon. He never made quick decisions, always gathered information and almost over thought it before finalizing anything. Especially something as vital as this.

The content had said,

"The time is coming soon."

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><p>So this is late and short for some good reasons. 1. I had testing that I had to study far too much for. And 2. I'm thinking on a new story idea. Maybe. What do you think?<p>

She knew too much, but her IQ was simply too high, perfect for what they wanted, too rare to be simply "missed". And so Kyoko Mogami was forgotten, replaced by test subject FSB791.

Should I start it?

How am I doing on this story? Impressions? Suggestions? Leave a review, please!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's notes will be at the end.

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><p>A stray hair fell down into Lory Takarada's eye as he looked out from his curtain draped window upon the bustling streets of Florence. A minstrel woman's voice whispered in his ears accompanied by the harsh bark of a dog, and the clink of coins as they passed hands from customer to merchant.<p>

All this was lost upon him until he was snapped back by his now-watering, scratched eye. Irritated, he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to remove it from his face. It fell right where it was, however he was too lost in thought again to pay it any more heed.

It was three months now since the Lord and Lady Hizuri contacted him in desperate need of help in finding their missing son.

Kuon had disappeared, with no indication as to where he had gone. And for Lory, Mayor of Florence and constantly gathering information, this meant his trail was going to be hard to find, indeed.

The Hizuris, who were high nobles with large amounts of influence over Florence, had contacted him two days after it had happened, saying they could not find him.

Since then, after months of vigorous searching, there was still no sign of Kuon. It worried Lory. With each passing day the likelihood of finding anything became slimmer.

A soft knock upon his door snapped him from his thoughts. His most trustworthy servant, Sebastian, walked in with an expressionless face and a small bundle of files under one arm.

"Is it news?" Lory asked anxiously.

Not directly answering the question, Sebastian said, "I have gathered information on the movements of the assassins in Verona. Interpret it however you may." He left, silently walking upon the dark wood floor with practiced ease.

Lory smiled, despite his anxiety.

He had a lead.

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><p>Soundless footsteps hopping from niche to ledge close to the ceiling in the large mansion with hard heeled boots and greaves on was no small feat, or so Kyoko learned. If she looked down, her stomach turned somersaults, and she bet she was an absolutely gorgeous shade of green currently.<p>

She made a huge leap onto a chandelier, cloak whipping behind her and hot wax dripping down onto the man's head below. A clatter echoed as he dropped his book on the floor in shock. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears like a hammer as she hid herself from view on the floor. He winced as he rubbed the now sore spot on his bald head, looking up. When a bird flew down in that precise moment, he dismissed it as nothing more and picked up and continued reading his book of what seemed to be a map of sea monsters in the oceans.

He was quite pudgy. He must spend large amounts of time just reading.

Kyoko fought the urge to laugh, despite herself, amused by the thought that assassins must learn quite the interesting cluster of information.

But, enough with that. She leaped down onto a column, holding on with just her fingers on a decorated marble ledge. Suddenly all those finger lifts Moko-san had made her do made perfect sense. Because falling to ones death just ruins your day, not to mention ends it.

Progress was slow. She had to make her way to the other side of the room. Why did nobles have to have such big dining halls? She wondered for not the first time. All it provided was birds nesting, from the amount of excrete she had stepped in. Her black leather boots were not so black anymore, more, rather, an interesting shade of gray and white.

After quite awhile after entering, she finally arrived at her destination. Dropping quietly onto the pillowed pedestal on which it was kept, she snatched the valuable looking jewel that shone in the shaft of sunlight seeping in through the window. She stuffed it in a bag around her waist.

"Eh...? HEY, you! Get back here!" His squeaky voice yelped at her back. Intimidating.

Guess her whereabouts were known.

Soundless running carried her to him. Right as she was going to reach for her dagger, she realized that the earlier clatter had not just been the book.

What to do...

"Guards! Gu..!" He was cut short as she slammed his soft head into the hard floor.

Unconscious.

She ran over to where she believed her dagger had been dropped. As she picked it up, the cold surface and still slightly blackened appearance of it reminded her of the man who had tried to kill her.

Her scar burned impatiently as she thought about how she had another name to add to her revenge list.

The loud trampling of feet coming from behind her alerted her to the guards.

Berating herself for the lapse in concentration, she whirled around to face the score and a half of fully-armed men. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, disabling her ability to think clearly.

She tried fighting with her knife, but only ended up with hands slippery with warm blood and not much damage.

Her mission had ordered that she not get any more weapons besides a knife.

Was Voretti trying to kill her?

As a sword slashed down her back, her eyes flashed with determination and a new idea.

Spinning around, she knocked her head into her wounder's. She took his sword from the loosing grip and turned on the rest of her assailants.

The echoing sounds of the clash of swords resounded through the entire room until her ears rang.

Though her sword skills were above what the guards could do, it soon became obvious Kanae was going to have to spend more time fencing.

Ten minutes later of quick, intense fighting, Kyoko was tiring. She had cut down ten men, but there was still twenty to deal with.

As a particularly vicious strike hit her arm, she realized she needed to get out of there.

She was running out of energy.

Glancing around between strikes, she saw a bookcase from which she could jump to a low-hanging crevice.

After slowly making her way to the bookcase, she leaped up nimbly, denying the painful protests of her back. But not fast enough. A sword caught her in the leg. She cursed under breath with the pain, kicking the man in the head hard enough to knock him out.

The jump to the crevice was quite a stretch, but it was her only option. Flinging herself, she just barely caught the ledge. Her heart thudded in her ears as one hand slipped for a second.

With the shouts and threats of the men below, she climbed up as quickly as her wounds would allow. The wound on her leg bled quite a bit, making one foot slippery.

Not five minutes later found the rasping of the shingles of roofs under her feet as she ran to the Eagle's Assassins headquarters.

Despite the pain in her wounds which alleviated with each step, Kyoko smiled, the adrenaline slowly fading from her veins allowing her to think clearly.

She had succeeded.

She was one step closer.

* * *

><p>Kanae paced back in forth in front of the bed that Amamiya Chiori sat on, anxiety written all over her face. Her fingers fidgeted with an arrow from her quiver, repeatedly refletching the feathers along the shaft.<p>

Chiori watched her friend, and then asked, "Is it that bad?"

Kanae continued her nervous actions while answering in a slightly strained voice, "Yes, it is. He sent her with those orders. She could be killed, quite easily, too, with such little protection." Although she never would admit it to Kyoko, during their training she had become quite attached to the girl.

"She's not stupid, Kanae."

Kotonami finally sat down, though her fingers kept on their repetitive motions.

"I know she's not stupid. But nobody could do an entire mission with just a dagger and some armor for protection!"

"It's not like this is a particularly dangerous mission, Kanae."

"Chiori, you know as well as I do how well guarded the Diamond of Milan is. That noble practically lives with it, with a few score trained guards within shouting distance."

"But it's not that you're worried about, Kanae."

She shook her head.

"No, it's Voretti that worries me."

* * *

><p>Thanks to Laura_Ella for her review with the criticism. I hadn't realized that the story was getting boring. I had the character's appearances planned out, I just wasn't sure at which point to put them in. But keep in mind; this is supposed to be suspenseful, so not everything is going to make sense at once.<p>

Did I do a better job with this chapter? Anything else I could be doing better? Reviews are greatly appreciated!

I wrote this in about an hour, in a spurt of motivation. But then editing it took twice as long. *sighs*


	7. Chapter 7

Long fingers gripped a book too hard it hurt the man who struggled to concentrate on the words in front of him, to no avail. His eyebrows knit together intricately; he was trying to change his thought processes from what had been haunting him constantly. But his eyes were unseeing of the text; his brain too unwilling to focus on what currently seemed to be the uninteresting topic of property expansion of the Azzinis.

Frustrated, he finally put the book down, and leaned his head against the wall, looking out the high up window to the walled-in grounds below. He sat in a niche in the wall, surrounded by windows, granting a full view. His neck muscles gently pulled in the action, yet the feeling did nothing to relax his high-strung mood.

Almost a month later, and he still had not been able to get her eyes out of his head.

Running really was useless.

_He could feel her warm blood on his skin. It mixed with the cold rain, causing a lukewarm mixture to start rolling down his abdomen. He shivered, not because of the cold, but because of what he had done._

_He had almost killed her._

_The owner of the golden eyes. The one from that time..._

_The stone only confirmed his suspicions. It was invaluable to most eyes, but to her, it had meant the world._

_He had given it so long ago... Yet she still wore it._

_There were no doubts. She was Kyoko, the friend he had met long ago._

_And he had had the intent to kill her._

A wet rolled down his knuckle. Surprised, he looked to the pillow he had clenched in his fist so hard the skin had split. The grip only grew tighter, though, as he remembered the accusation and hatred in her eyes for him.

His fist slammed against the wall, splitting all of the knuckles' skin on the hand. He did not feel the pain, too focused on his thoughts to care.

After all, no amount of hurt could repay for what he had done to that sweet, innocent girl of his past.

* * *

><p>"Moko-san!" Kyoko yelled from her room loudly. "I need your help!"<p>

"Yeah? What?" Chiori said, walking in.

Kyoko's face fell. "Where's Moko-san?"

"Meeting with Voretti. What do you need help with?" Chiori asked, looking at the bandages lying on the bed.

She blushed as she said, "Well, I was bandaging my wounds again, but... My back..." The blush grew deeper.

Amamiya understood. She had Kyoko lie down on the bed, while Chiori untied her bodice wide enough to access the gash. Nothing showed, for which Kyoko was able to relax.

Taking off the bandages, Chiori saw that the gash was reddened and still not clotting, judging from the excess blood that stained the pure white cloth of the discarded bandages. It was not looking good.

Taking a bowl of hot water from over the fire, she poured some onto Kyoko's back. The girl hissed with the pain, gritting her teeth as her temporary caretaker wiped the tender spot clean.

"It might be getting infected. It has not even clotted, either."

"That bad?" Kyoko inquired worriedly.

"Yes. And this is why you shouldn't push yourself so much on missions. You could very easily kill yourself, Kyoko."

Amamiya, having finished her work and said what she wanted, left, the door shutting firmly behind her, leaving Kyoko to think.

She knew how dangerous that mission was. She had wounds to prove it.

But she would not stop, no matter what.

She would do anything for revenge.

* * *

><p>She stood in front of the dark oak door, hand raised to knock, attempting to steel herself for what was to come.<p>

Riling up enough courage, she knocked, and then opened the heavy door.

Voretti, glasses balanced on the edge of his nose, did not even bother to acknowledge her until she stood in front of his desk. His head whipped up, eyes immediately in concentration on her.

Kyoko faced him, outwardly completely calm under the intense scrutiny, denying the inward panicking that only showed with the itching of her abdominal scar. She was reminded of why she was doing what she was by the irritation, and her facade became rock solid.

After minutes of a staring contest, which neither side won, Voretti broke the silence with his sharp voice.

"So, by the way you are standing in front of me; you succeeded on your mission."

"Yes." One word was all she said, as that was all Voretti wanted.

"You're a bit more useful than you look." She winced internally at the biting comment. More examination followed, and then he said.

"This man will be your partner from now on, Mogami." He still used the name like a curse.

She could not have time to muse over that though, as a man dropped from the chandelier directly overhead. He landed on all fours with catlike grace, right in front of Kyoko, then slowly stood, towering over her like a cathedral.

'This man's atmosphere...' She thought, trying to recall the similarity. Then it hit her.

She stumbled back, like she had been smacked, her scar practically writhing with life as she stared at the man whose face was hidden beneath the shadows of his cloak. Yet he was unmistakable.

'Oh. God.'

What the hell was he doing here?

* * *

><p>And someone makes a reappearance again... Take a guess as to who it is!<p>

Anyways, more chat on the first five chapters. Those parts were completely necessary to the story. I know it was just boring preliminary stuff, but it was all very important. But, if this story is getting boring, (other than that, of course!) please, please tell me!

It's getting so much easier to write with this little world I've created! So I expect chapters will be coming out faster... But still, no promises.

Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/alerted! Oh, and added this to their favorites. I keep on forgetting about you guys. Nevertheless, you are appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

Kyoko was alerted from her shocked state by the blunt sound of Voretti's voice. She snapped back slowly; her guise was somewhat faulty. Her eyes kept on darting to the man now standing next to her. He was not in the slightest affected by what was causing her to be screaming "What?" over and over in her head.

"You may go now." Voretti said, eyeing her.

The man roughly grabbed her by the arm, and walked quickly out, forcing her to follow with a strange, fast plodding that made her step on the back of his boots.

When the door shut with a bang, he drove her up against the wall, his hood falling off to reveal his face. Chiseled features framed by dark brown hair could have sent girls all over him, but Kyoko only stared, terrified, into the rage blazing in his eyes.

His voice cut into her, so sharp was the bluntness of it. "Why are you here?"

The cutting of his voice finally reached down into her fog of confusion, and her eyes flashed with anger, scar blazing. "What are you doing here?" She hissed, fingering the handle of the dagger. The very same one this man had almost killed her with.

He glanced down at it. With lightning fast movements, he grabbed her hand and yanked it from her fingers. Throwing it down the hallway far out of reach, the loud clatter breaking the suffocating silence sharply.

A staring contest ensued. Anger sparked between them, which only continued to make them even more furious.

Kijima walked up then, and stared for awhile at the intense scene in front of him. Then he spoke up, his medium tone breaking through the silence like a rock breaking glass.

"So I guess you met your new partner, eh, Ren?" He dropped the statement casually.

Tsuruga snapped from his state, covering up his anger with a smile so bright it could rival the sun. The dark aura around him chilled Kyoko to the bone. Suddenly the anger was taken from her, leaving her once again scared of the man beside her.

"Ah, yes, but I don't think I caught her name. Do you know it, Kijima?"

"It's Mogami Kyoko, isn't it?" He said, turning to the girl who was cowering in fear.

"Ye...ah..." A small voice answered.

"When is your first mission?" He asked, watching to see what was going on between the two.

Ren's smile brightened, causing Kyoko to cower even more.

"We are going tomorrow. We were told to get rid of Count Metti. You know the one who my partner failed to kill during her mission? Well, now he knows too much."

Kijima nodded his understanding. "It's alright, Kyoko. It took me a while to get used to the protocol under here."

"Yeah..."

Ren turned to go. "Well, we'd best be going, then." He dragged her behind him like baggage.

When they reached where he had thrown her dagger, she started apologizing, speaking so quickly it was hard to catch.

"I'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorry!"

He let his mask go, to reveal still madly flaming eyes.

"Are you willing to answer me now?"

"...Yes..." Came the subdued answer.

Silence.

He demanded now, "Aren't you going to tell me?"

"I'm here because I want revenge." She said quietly for such a statement.

His eyes softened slightly, but he continued interrogating her.

"And why do you want revenge?"

"Because someone hurt me badly, and he needs to be repaid."

"And who is this?"

"Fuwa Shotarou." The rage had calmed in his eyes, she realized. She allowed herself to relax, convinced that this man was not trying to kill her at the given moment.

Another silence lingered, though more of a inquiring silence, in which both examined each other. Unasked questions wandered around in their eyes.

Kyoko, bending down to pick up her knife, said, "Well, I'd better find Kanae for help with sword practice."

Ren let her go, having tormented her enough, and his layered mask once again fell away, to reveal a sad expression. His inner turmoil that he had concealed dwelled on his face.

The reason he was angry with her was because she had joined this godforsaken organization that killed many without a care.

What had this Shotarou done to her? To drive her to this extent?

That sweet, innocent girl was gone... With no thanks to him.

She was absolutely terrified of him, and her anger towards him for what he had done was immense.

What he had done, after all, was unforgivable.

What they all were doing was unforgivable.

* * *

><p>Balancing along a rope between two buildings, their shadows cast upon the oblivious citizens below, Ren and Kyoko made their way quickly on top of the rooftops.<p>

There was tension between the two of them, which had one glancing over their shoulder at the other when their backs were turned.

The screech of shingles alerted to Ren to something going on behind him. Spinning around, he just barely caught Kyoko from falling off the edge of the roof. The startled look in her eyes disappeared into one of suspicion. He turned back around, to disguise the sad look in his.

They reached a window that would let them into Count Metti's house. Ren took a cloth soaked with pine resin to make it sticky and put it on firmly on the glass, so that it covered all of the surface area. He then took the hilt of his dagger and tapped it against the glass, allowing only a dull sound to be heard. Peeling it away, they then had an easy opening into the house.

But when they were hanging from a crystal chandelier, Kyoko noticed the guard had doubled. She gestured for Ren to pull himself up.

"It'll be impossible to get to Metti." She concluded.

He focused on a burning candle as he thought. "We will come back tonight." He decided.

However, luck did not seem to want it that way.

Kyoko, still not fully used to being stealthy, hung onto a statue that was not anchored. As she looked around for the next place to hang on to, it fell off of the ledge. A scream escaped from her throat. She landed with a loud thud right in the midst of several guards, and several more came running.

Ren, taking advantage of the initial shock, fell down, straight onto a guard, his sword first, so that the skull was punctured.

The two became a whirlwind of slashes, stabs and parries. Both became completely focused on fighting.

They felt a rush of adrenaline, fogging their minds and vision with a red mist. The smell of blood heightened their senses to an extreme; every hit that vibrated through their weapons went down into the fibers of their beings and worked the cells into a frenzy. Their bodies were buzzing with life; they were truly alive.

Kyoko was slashed by a blade across her forearm. Hissing with pain, she threw herself upon the man, giving him five slashes to his arms for her one before slitting his throat.

Within twenty minutes the guards were dead, including all of the ones that had come running. Pulling their armour over the assassin gear, Ren and Kyoko had pretty good disguises, provided you did not look at some bloodstains on Ren's boots.

They waited in the room until the stroke of midnight from the melodic toll of a bell in the tower of the mansion, and then made their move.

Most of the guards were either dead or sleeping on duty, so the silent duo did not run into much trouble. The ones who awake were snuck up on and knocked unconscious.

The guards in front of the door were sleeping, also, but they could not afford to have them sounding an alarm. With a sharp rap of the head against the wall, and they served no threat.

With next to no time at all, they were inside the bedroom, standing next to the man's bed. He snored loudly, making pig-like noises.

Ren looked around for anything that could be of value to them. Picking a few fine fabrics and jewels, he pocketed them. The assassins did not exactly have sponsors.

Kyoko was in turmoil. Her dagger was just above his throat; very easily could she end his life. She had killed, yes, but not like this. The man was sleeping, ever so soundly, like the idiot that was not going to know what hit him.

This was different from fighting and then killing.

This was murdering in cold blood.

She started to shake. The hand holding the dagger nicked the man's throat, causing him to wake up with a start.

"Huh?..." Then the two shadowy figures hovering over him registered. "Help! Help!"

She lowered the dagger, silencing his cries.

Whatever it takes...

"We'd better get out of here," Ren stated. "Just in case someone heard him."

The two shadows left soundlessly, a faint breeze carrying the smell of blood throughout the mansion behind them. They left nothing but death behind.

* * *

><p>So, chapter eight! Did'ya like it?<p>

It was hard writing the interactions between Ren and Kyoko. Since them both are wary of the other currently... What are your impressions on it? I don't know, was it OCC?

Schools out in 7 days! It makes me so happy. I finally am going to be able to write... I have some oneshot ideas, (some being an understatement. I have so many I could write for days and still have ten ideas.) And I probably will be starting some multichapter fics...

I had originally planned for this to be out along with a oneshot on Thursday, but then we had a bad thunderstorm that knocked down a branch that took out our power line and it took them forever to get it back up. Plus, I went camping last weekend to the middle of nowhere. It was very hot, 90 degrees, and I came back with zero hours of sleep from the entire weekend.

When I was writing this, I realized I didn't know the color of Ren's eyes/hair. Anyone know?

I freakin' love reviews!


	9. Chapter 9

Kuu Hizuri rubbed his temple in frustration, giving a death glare to the hastily-scribbled letter from Takarada Lory.

He knew there was more to what Takarada knew then this.

The words expressed a complete in-the-dark perspective.

Yet if you paid attention, in between the lines, the avoidance of the questions that one might ask that were so well ignored that it showed knowledge of them.

In short, Lory had found something. A lead of some sort.

And was not telling him.

But why wouldn't he tell him? Anything about his son he had an entitlement to know.

And that letter had been about his findings on Kuon.

Lory would have told him anything about his son.

Unless it was potentially harmful towards either Kuon or his family.

What was he hiding?

* * *

><p>A whir, a crack, and a loud snap greeted Ren as he went around the last bend in the garden maze where Kyoko was practicing.<p>

The ground was littered with a bow, several arrows, daggers, swords, and on a crushed stuffed replica whose head was snapped off was a pair of numchucks.

She certainly had been practicing hard. He thought, looking at the thin shine of sweat on the back of her neck.

His footsteps made her turn around quickly, a sword grasped tightly in one hand and eyes alert.

When she saw who it was, she relaxed slightly.

Slightly.

Grabbing a loose sword from the ground, he said, "Care for a match?"

She tensed once again, and with a curt "Yes," took her stance.

A whirl of blades and complex footwork ensued for the next few minutes, until she tripped on an arrow and he was able to disarm her.

"Your skills are improving, Kyoko. But, always watch your step when you are fighting. A simple mistake is sometimes a vital point in a fight."

She nodded silently in agreement, watching him closely.

Still suspicious, and his overpowerment of her had not helped anything.

Not the slightest bit of trust.

No matter how much that affected him, he still had a reason for heading out here to the grounds. And the faster he could get that out of the way, the quicker he could leave that cold gaze.

"Well, we have a new mission."

"Oh, really. That fast?" If possible, she had an even more watching eye on him.

"Yes. I am a favorite of Voretti's."

Gaze intensified.

"That is rather handy, now, isn't it? Care to tell me about this mission?"

* * *

><p>An itchy feeling lingered all over Kyoko's skin. A bug crawled up her arm, and she fought with the urge to flick it away.<p>

The hay was too thin over top of her to move and give away her position to that guard who paced restlessly in front of the entrance.

Peering through the slits to the outside world, she saw Ren drop down from the top of the building he had been climbing, landing dagger first on top of a guard.

Good cushioning, she thought rather darkly.

A guard ran past her hiding spot. One hand on his mouth and another to pull him in, and she had his body hidden with the throat slit.

In the same shadowy manner, she took care of quite few guards, while Ren killed his share face to face.

Within twenty minutes, the merits of teams became apparent.

Silent footsteps lead them into the entryway, where there was more to contend with.

Both held their own quite admirably.

That is until Kyoko's sword missed a vital spot, causing the man to yell in pain only to be swiftly silenced. Yet her location was known.

A guard came towards her, and she was engaged in a rather difficult sword battle that had her unfocused in the beginning.

In short, she was losing.

Panicking clouded her senses slightly, and she could not see the man readying a dagger to be thrown close to the moving shadow on the wall.

Ren did, however.

Using one of the guards as a leaping post, he jumped to the chandelier and spun around to land directly in the path of the dagger. A soft thud in his arm told that he succeeded in intercepting the weapon.

Effectively crippling his sword arm, also.

Kyoko, managing to kill her opponent, fought her way to his side.

His recovery time was rather long from falling on the floor, and he was wounded in several places. Although Ren was fairly good with his other arm, his wounds were quite hampering, especially that gash along his leg.

Kyoko finally made it over to him, and they fought back to back. Ren was tiring, though, and getting even more injured because of it.

They had to get out of there.

But there was too many guards blocking the way.

Kyoko fingered a thick chain in her belt, before whipping it out and around the closest guard's neck. A loud snap could be heard, and he fell over into the next opponent, leaving him open for attack. A stab through the chest and the same was done to the person behind him.

Twenty minutes later, Kyoko had killed everyone. Lashing the now unconscious Ren to her back, she ran to a window and climbed up and across the rooftops to a small balcony overgrown by plants. The two were effectively hidden from view.

She bandaged Ren's wounds to stop the bleeding, and then curled up next to him for shut-eye as she wondered at her protection of the man she had had plans to kill just a week ago.

He saved her life.

And she had saved his.

Revenge on him had seemed easy, but now that this had happened...

Maybe he was worthy of her trust, and was too valuable a partner to kill.

* * *

><p>I feel like I did my homework.<p>

I watched the Scorpion King (first one) before writing this, and though the movie was SO predictable, it had a TON of fight scenes. Lol, my brother (who was watching with me) got really irritated, especially at the end where I went, "Oh, I know what's going to happen, he's going to pull the arrow from his back and shoot it at the guy. Oh, yep, he's fine. Like that wasn't deep enough to pierce his lung or anything. Oh, and he's not even the slightest bit burnt from running through fire."

So, yeah, I just watched it. For the incredible amount of fight scenes. Nothing else, really. It was OK. I guess. I got amusement out of questioning the amounts of logic put into it.

Hopefully my fight scenes will be better now.

Schooooooool's out for summer! *guitar plays* Yeah, so hopefully I will be writing more often.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm really sorry about the lateness of this update. I have been writing other stories, been on far too many vacations, and in general not wanting to screw this chapter up because of a writer's block. Every time I tried to write, it ended up lifeless. A weird term, I know, but what I wrote down was uninspired jumbles of words.

* * *

><p>Her ears picking up a familiar pattering and splattering rhythm from far away, Kyoko sniffed the air, sensitive nose picking up the fresh, unmistakeable scent.<p>

She had to move quickly, otherwise the medicine she had gotten would be contaminated by the rain from the storm ten minutes away.

The merchant in front of her watched as she observed all of this, mind slightly dazed with the ominous aura she radiated to connect the face with the one on the posters hanging all over Milan.

She quickly paid for the salts she was buying, and then left, blending in with the crowd before reaching an alley.

Strapping the newly bought wares to her belt, and then quickly scaling the wall, she headed back to the headquarters.

The curtain gently waved with the slight breeze she brought in as she soundlessly landed on a vine-shaded veranda.

Padding into the room, she immediately kneeled by the bedside, examining the man who still slept in a feverish sleep. Sweat dripped from his brow, and one could tell his unconsciousness was unrestful.

Pulling down the cover reveal to his bare abdomen and legs, enough covering him so indecency was not an issue. (a slight coloring on her cheeks, in spite of aforementioned precautions) she looked at his wounds, trying not to wince at the apparent pain they would cause.

None of them looked very pretty, to be honest.

Redness was around the edges of the wounds, and a white liquid oozed from them, soaking the bandages in a thick, white and red bloody mix.

She stoked the fire in the corner of the room, checking the water that had hung over it while she was out. A cloud of steam greeted her as she poured some into a cup, and then a bowl.

Pouring some sake into the cup, (the almost acidic smell making her cough) she mixed in the salts and strange medicines she had gotten.

Into the bowl went a higher concentration of alcohol, along with a lot of salt. Taking a clean cloth, she allowed it to soak in the strong-smelling mixture.

She gently lifted Ren's head off of the pillows, and opened his mouth wide enough so he drank the foul-smelling liquid. The bubbles from it (how it got bubbles had her staring suscipously at the fizzing cup for a few minutes) must have tickled their way down his throat, because he was coughing with each sip.

After holding his head up for a time to ensure his continued breathing, she allowed him to drop back onto the mattress and back into his fevered sleep.

It hit her, watching his face after her work for any stirs of consciousness, how harmless he looked.

How harmless he was.

A knife could easily slip inside the hard ribcage with the large gash, hitting his heart or lung. A blade could slice across his throat. He would never breathe again. Could never breathe again.

He was defenseless.

It made her wonder at herself, as she wrung out the now orange colored cloth, the alcohol stinging her nose, how much trouble she was going through from someone she could so easily kill. Someone who had almost killed her.

But he hadn't killed her.

He had had the dagger at her throat, one slice away from an eternally missing Kyoko Mogami. But then leniency had come knocking for some abstract reason into his decision, and he had spared her her life.

She had hated him. The scar on her stomach itched with malice whenever she thought of him, and a thirst for revenge awakened the urge to kill. An assassin's urge.

She could kill him right now, easily, and he would not make a sound. No one would notice for an extended period of time, as she was designated his caretaker, a responsibility that had seemingly come with their partnership.

But his leniency decided to hit her right in her resolve, and the thirst of revenge was dulled for a caretaker's warmth. A warmth that had not arisen in quite awhile.

"Such meticulous and caring work, Mogami." A deep voice came from the doorway, startling her. Her cold mask immediately fell into place, a customary habit by now, disguising any and all emotions.

"Voretti." Her icy voice elaborated nought on any part of his name, simply emotionless.

"One might wonder at it." He continued, ignoring her acknowledgement of his presence.

"One might, Voretti."

"Such treatment for an assassin."

Her back stiffened ever so imperceptibly. "An assassin, yes, but a person I am required to work with to participate as an active member of this organization."

He laughed, the suddenness of the action causing her to tense even more.

"You seem to have not fully grasped the meaning of being an assassin.

"An assassin is someone who kills without a backward glance. Principle-less, with no regret of their deep wrongdoings whose blood is still etched slightly into their skin.

"They have become like this because of the unpredictability of those working beside them. We're all the same, surviving by killing first.

"And should one get in our way, we shall not hesitate to get them out of it with a blade twixt the shoulders."

He drew closer to her.

"There is no trust in this organization; no lingering feelings about one another."

Ever closer, he was directly in her face.

"You should learn not to trust in people, but in their unpredictability.

"Because you will never know when the unpredictability rises until it's too late."

Clang!

He had whipped out a knife, and she had quick enough reflexes to take out her own, retaliating his surprise attack just inches from her ribcage.

Her eyes were widened, and she panted as she watched him stand with a cold smile that sent chills down her spine. She must look like Ren right now, minus the closed eyes.

"Trust in unpredictability, Mogami, as you are learning aptly, for you never know when irrationality decides to take your life. That's what being one of us means."

She heard the door slam behind him, and his heartless laughter echoing down the hallway.

She looked at the knife grasped in her hand. The same one who had the potential to kill her easily those months ago had just barely saved her life.

It was a sign of his leniency.

Glancing at the defenseless man, irrationality deep into her resolve, she decided.

Perhaps leniency was a sign of unpredictability.

You could never predict when someone decided to spare your life, either.

And that irrationality spared Ren his life.

* * *

><p>Yashiro Yukihito sat stick-straight in his chair, exposed for the first time to the raw intuitiveness in a man he never would have guessed had an inherent bone in his body.<p>

"I need you to follow Takarada's men, Yashiro, until you find a lead."

"Sir," he paused nervously, "if you don't mind me..." He trailed off.

"Asking for the purpose?" He said, picking up seemingly automatically on his words.

"Lory knows something about my son. I'm sure of it. Something he doesn't want me to know. And while it may be for my protection, I will not sit idle whilst my son may be in danger!

"You must be discreet. Never blow your cover. Although Lory is trying to protect us, that I'm certain, you never know what he's trying to protect us from."

Kuu stood, to stand by the window of his study.

"I don't know quite what he's hiding, but I have a feeling it's monstrous."

Moments passed, Kuu in his reverie, and Yashiro suddenly apprehensive.

"You may go, Yukihito."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>A man sighed in his bedroom, rubbing his head vigorously in an attempt to reach his burning headache from last night's intoxication.<p>

If _she_ were here, she would have rushed around, concern written all over her plain face, fetching herbs and hot water and making him an aromatic tonic of sorts that took the pain away within minutes.

Sometimes, he found himself missing his _tool._

Not any lingering feelings, of course, but because she took care of him uncomparably to any woman since, and he didn't even have to pretend to love her. All she took was the occasional thank you and she would be in a daze for days.

"Shooooo….." A voice, coming from directly above him, demanded his attention. He glanced at his current fallen conquest, and went right back to ignoring her.

She was particularly annoying, after all.

* * *

><p>So, did'ya enjoy that chappie? Development, which was partially why I was putting this off because I didn't want to screw it up with my 'lifeless' writing.<p>

Although my FF activity is going to drop due to the arrival of the new school year, I am going to finish this story. No matter how long it takes, I'm not giving it up. I have too much plot planned out for that. :p

An error hit me from the first chapter as I read the story to freshen up on what was going on. It was wayyyy back, (seems like forever!) in one of the first paragraphs, (you probably don't remember) when I was writing that whole 'Rain. It fell from the sky...' thing. Later on I wrote, 'The drops fell down Juliet's face, making her appear as if she was lamenting her and her lover's cruel fate.' Do you remember that part?

Well, it was completely historically inaccurate for Juliet to be in Verona. She wouldn't be in Verona, (her statue, I mean) because Shakespeare's great-great grandparents wouldn't even be alive then. (I believe that Shakespeare was born in the 1700's? That's probably wrong...) Therefore, Romeo and Juliet would not be in existence as of then, and there would be no statue to commemorate that depressing piece of literature.

Major error. I was thinking of Verona, trying to visualize it enough so I could write it, and immediately thought of the fact it took place there. And there you go, Juliet in the 1400's.

Apologies for confusion. Not that that explanation helped, either.

So, should I revise that part? I feel as if it was very confusing as to when the story is taking place.

Thank you for sticking with this story, it has been awhile!

Ahhh, long author's notes. They seem to have elongated as of late...


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